


Attention

by goodbyekillingharmony



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Public Humiliation, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, again i am not getting into heaven, again im so so sorry, but in terms of content, but might as well try my best, but u know, hi thramsay community im so sorry for this, not in terms of writing, this fic is pretty bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22959760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodbyekillingharmony/pseuds/goodbyekillingharmony
Summary: Reek has some shred of dignity left. Nobody else except for the bastard has seen Reek in person, nobody knows the extent of the damage left on the former Greyjoy. Ramsay knows this and wants to take care of it.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Reek, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Attention

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry for this but hghhh thramsay angst good  
> also ive been running out of fic ideas so if you have any thramsay related requests please send them and i would be happy to write them  
> anyway sorry for my page being dead writers block isnt fun  
> but yeah

He was an unfortunate lad. If you could even call him that anymore. Theon Greyjoy was no longer a man, rather, he is an obedient mutt. Weak, fragile, and so-incredibly loyal… Bolton making sure to strip him with every single shred of pride that the once proud ironborn had. Now all that was left was a husk. A cockless corpse, putting it lightly. 

Reek found it hard to speak, to socialize even. He was on high alert. Every single waking hour was spent in fear on what the cruel, cruel bastard was going to do to him. But of course, he could never disobey his lord. He is loyal to his lord, he would do anything for him. Even if it meant losing the thing most important to the Greyjoy, his last surviving sliver of dignity. Reek assumes that only Ramsay is aware of his current… status and that his men only really hear rumors about him, ‘the elusive war criminal’... That would certainly be a nice title, Theon thinks, but he knows his lord would never in his life would refer to Theon that highly.

Reek was so enthralled in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear Ramsay coming in. He always wondered how his lord always got the better of him, always catching him off guard. Theon never caught on to his sadistic games fast enough. 

“How did you sleep, Reek?”

“...F-fine, m’lord.”

“Oh, you know you shouldn’t lie to me, Reek. Is something the matter? Something you want to tell your lord?”

“No… Everything’s alright…”

“Hm. Well, alright. I suppose it’s not really important. But… I have a surprise for you, Reek!”

Reek felt his heart immediately start to race. He knew exactly what was coming. Ramsay’s ‘surprises’ and ‘rewards’ always had something in common: complete and utter torment. He would always end up getting hurt. Physically or emotionally - it didn’t matter to the bastard. Reek had no fight left, he was exhausted. He wasn’t sure how long he could handle the Bolton. He was just hoping it would just be another lost limb or having to service his lord. But, even Theon knew it wasn’t going to be that simple. It never was that simple.

“Oh, don’t look so afraid, Reek! Can you stand up and walk? Do you need me to help you?”

Theon attempted to stand up, but after spending so much time sitting, and being so incredibly malnourished that his bones were clearly visible, it was high near impossible for him to do it alone. He felt his legs giving out and felt himself start to fall, but not before Ramsay caught him. The bastard had his arms wrapped around Reek’s pitifully small body, and took great pleasure in that Theon was desperately clinging onto him, looking up at his lord with a mortified expression, his lip quivering. 

“I suppose that answers that. I have no other choice other than to carry you. I assume you don’t mind, Reek?”

“N-no, m’lord…”

Reek’s face was completely red. Never in his life has he felt this embarassed. To be so incredibly weak and fragile that he needs to rely on someone else just to walk. His father would have killed him on the spot if he ever such saw this… display. Ramsay was carrying Reek bridal style, being careful not to hurt the poor thing. His captive’s face was completely buried in his chest, rather purposeful on Bolton’s part. He didn’t want his sweet pet to know where they were going. That would spoil the surprise. 

After a while, Reek started hearing voices. Voices of Bolton’s men he assumed, immediately making the man nervous. ‘Is that… Theon Greyjoy?’ ‘You mean the prince? No, it can’t possibly be him.’ ‘What has Roose’s bastard done to him…?’ Reek dared to slowly move his head away from the bastard’s chest, just to see where in Seven Hells he was. He could make out a few seats and a large table. A few people, as well… He started to rapidly move his head as he heard more and more men talking, alerting the Bolton. However, instead of punishing his insolence, he simply sat down in a chair, his loyal pet still buried in him.

“I apologize for the wait, my lords. I had something to attend to. Father won’t be able to make it, I’m afraid. So, you’ll just have to deal with me.”

“I… excuse the question, but, isn’t that the… Prince of the Iron Islands?”

“Oh, this? I think it would be better for Reek to introduce himself instead! Come on, go tell them your name.”

Reek felt tears welling up in his eyes, his fingernails digging into the Bolton’s shoulders. He tried to speak, but no words came out. His dignity shattering the instant the bastard put the spotlight on him. These men… they knew who Greyjoy was. They know Theon Greyjoy as a strong, freespirited man. Not whatever this… thing was. He felt Ramsay slowly stroking his hair, giving him the strength to at least try to speak.

“R-Reek…” That was all the captive was able to muster out.

The men started laughing, aside from the few who were absolutely mortified at the display. Reek was painfully aware of every single insult hurled at his way. Bolton’s whore, Bolton’s slut, Ramsay’s bitch… He heard every single one. He cried and cried into Ramsay’s chest, the feeling of utter humiliation overwhelming the man, leaving him nearly in shambles. Ramsay simply whispered in his ear, embarassing him even more.

“Oh, my sweet Reek. You like being my bitch, don’t you? So passive, so obedient… My, I think even my hounds have more dignity than you!”

“Ramsay? What in Seven Hells is this?” 

Roose Bolton’s voice echoed throughout the entire Great Hall. Ramsay’s expression immediately turned from joyful to stern as he stood up from his seat, trying to make himself seem as robust as possible. The older Bolton quickly walked toward his son, giving him a dissapproving look. 

“Father? I… didn’t know you were getting back this early-”

“Did you start a meeting without me?”

“No, I was just-”

“And you brought… that thing out here? In front of my men?”

“Listen, father, I can explain-”

“I need no explanation from you, bastard. Take that thing back to its chamber and don’t ever disobey my orders again. Understood?”

“...Yes.”

Ramsay quickly threw Theon onto the floor as soon as they made it back. The bastard was furious and he was going to take it all out on his captive. He picked up Reek once again and pinned him to the wall, holding a strong grip on his throat. Reek’s eyes were wide open as he started pleading for forgiveness, hoping his lord would go easy on him, at least this one time… However, Reek knew that it was just wishful thinking. 

“Damn fucking whore…! If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have kicked me out. I give you this rare opportunity to interact with other people, and this is how you act? Like a brothel whore?!”

“I-I’m so sorry, m’lord…! Reek didn’t mean to embarass Lord Ramsay…! I’m sorry, m’lord… So, so sorry…”

“Is that all you have to say?! That you’re just going to say ‘sorry’ and everything will just magically turn out fine? Gods, you even beg like a whore…”

Theon felt his vision slowly fading, the bastard’s grip on his throat had gotten much, much tighter. He could hardly hear Bolton anymore as he slowly faded in and out of consciousness, just hoping, praying that this whole ordeal will be over soon. 

Suddenly, he was dropped on the floor again. And, to his horror, he saw Ramsay’s sick sadistic grin plastered on his face again. Knowing full well what was going to happen next. By instinct, he felt himself crawling back, trying to get away from the man. But it was no use. He knew what was going to happen next. This always happened whenever Bolton was upset. He just had to prepare himself like last time.

“Well, since you want to act like a whore, Reek… I might as well indulge in that. Oh, you made me so, so upset, dear… You know what happens next.”


End file.
